


Fluff, In Multiple Senses Of The Word

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [139]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hair Brushing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication, POV Second Person, Perry thought they were already engaged, purring happens because purring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28452984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: "Believe me, I wouldloveto stay here, but..."But he hasplans. Of course he's planning something, this is your nemesis.
Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [139]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/746841
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Fluff, In Multiple Senses Of The Word

**Author's Note:**

> Ringing in the end of the year with a fluff, because why not.

_Doofenshmirtz_.

The name adorns the door in front of you, and you let out a shaky breath. What are you so nervous about? This is your _nemesis_ , your lifelong enemy, you know what you're getting into. Trouble, mostly. He _is_ your nemesis, after all, _trouble_ is to be expected. Steeling your nerves, you knock.

"Come in, Perry the Platypus, it's unlocked," he calls, and you can't help but roll your eyes. Sure, it's a good guess, you _are_ the main visitor he gets, but what would he do if it _wasn't_ you? Inator them? You'd almost feel sorry for anyone who thought it'd be a good idea to break into your nemesis's apartment, except that they'd deserve what they get. Between the traps and the inators, your nemesis has _many_ ways to inconvenience intruders, especially _unexpected_ intruders.

You, of course, are always expected. The thought brings a smile to your bill and you push open the door, thankful for the lowered door handles.

After all, he'd said when you first pointed it out, rocking back and forth on his heels, you use the door more than he does. Mostly to kick it down. He's not upset about the door-kicking, he'd hastened to add, that's why he gets the bulk deals on them, he just wanted you to feel welcome in his home. And you do. Every time he rebuilds, which is often, it's a little more comfortable.

Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you stretch your paws over your head, tail twitching. For once, all you are is Perry the Platypus. Fur combed flat, off-duty fedora on your head, watch left behind in your lair. After all, it's not like you'll need to be thwarting your nemesis.

Tonight is yours to spend how you want. And how you want to spend it is with your nemesis, not running off on a last-second very important mission in the middle of a date _again_.

Once you shake off the last shreds of your agent persona, like water after a swim, you make your way deeper into his apartment. Finding him is easy. All you have to do is follow the sound of his usual muttering, leading you to his main bedroom.

He's not even ready.

Leaning against the doorway, you take in the view. Long legs in tailored white pants, clinging in all the right places when he bends over to dig through his closet. A half-tucked shirt, loosely buttoned, the matching jacket tossed onto the bed. He's muttering again as he straightens, holding two bow ties in front of him, so focused on getting dressed he hasn't noticed your presence. That's your cue.

At your soft noise, he glances up, grinning when he catches sight of you. "Oh good, you're here. What do you think? The white, or the black? Or maybe the _blue_ , I know you like that one."

It brings out his eyes, those deep blue eyes you can't help but get lost in, of course you like it. But you have other plans. Gesturing him onto the bed, you climb into his bony knees, palms flat against his chest, bill brushing against his long nose, giving him the smile you don't show anyone else.

"That's not an answer," he mumbles, threading his fingers through the fur on your shoulders, and you kiss away his pout. He'll just have to wait and see.

When he's good and distracted, you slide your tail under a different bow tie, lying abandoned on the bed beside him, and flick it into your paw. The orange one you gave him a while back, a splash of colour to make his eyes shine all the brighter.

Setting it around the back of his neck, you button up his shirt without looking, letting your fingers brush along his skin. Yours. He's _yours_ , shivering nicely under your paws. The bow tie, you do up without looking, the movements easy after so long. Not the first time you've helped him get ready.

He pulls back with a gasp, eyes still closed. "It's the orange one, isn't it?" he guesses, and you nod. "Of _course_ it is, you always- You _like_ that one, huh?" This time, when you agree, more enthusiastically, you're met with his breathless grin. "You're so," he mumbles, pressing kisses along your bill, "so _smug_ right now, Perry the _Smug_ apus- I didn't say _stop_."

So you don't. Sliding your paw into his hair, you guide his mouth to yours, slow indulgent kisses that leave him clutching tighter at your fur. Just where you want him.

"We don't have all night," he protests faintly, without pulling away. "What about our-" A soft noise escapes his throat as you kiss him again. "-reservation? Dinner and a movie, wasn't that what you wanted?" How he's still talking, you have no idea. "Like your _stories_ , you said."

It can wait. Why rush when he's right here, dressed up just for you? No, you're going to take your time with him, make sure he feels _appreciated_. That's why you came over early.

Letting out a shaky laugh, he tips his head back so you can lick a stripe up his neck. "It _can't_ wait. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get us that reservation? A _lot_ , let me tell you, because _I_ wanted to show off my handsome _boyfriend_." His voice catches on that last word, and you suspect it's not _just_ because the skin just below his ears is that sensitive. "Believe me, I would _love_ to stay here, but..."

But he has _plans_. Of course he's planning something, this is your nemesis. _Scheming_ is one of the things that makes him the man you love. As much as he exasperates you sometimes, you wouldn't have him any other way.

So you nod, running your fingers through his messy hair. He'll need to brush it before you leave anyway.

"Can you..." he mumbles, breathless, and he doesn't need to finish that thought for you to understand him. The way he's leaning into your paw tells you all you need to know. "I mean, you're so _good_ at it..."

How can you say no? You give him another kiss to show you've heard and jump off his lap, digging through a drawer for the set of combs and brushes you bought for him, pulling it all out from where he's somehow managed to bury it under other clutter. In under a week. Rolling your eyes fondly, you turn back to him, grooming set in paw, taking in the view once more.

He's sitting about as still as he usually does, bare foot tapping against the ground, one hand in his pocket, glancing around the room in what you've come to recognise as nervous anticipation. Whatever his scheme is, it's going to be a big one.

Climbing back up next to him, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth to yours once more. Your free paw finds the first comb and you set to work.

Within seconds, he's purring, a deep rumbling in his chest. A sound reminiscent of your time at the Academy, fellow agents-in-training curled up together at night for warmth, but uniquely _him_. You suppose it's fitting. After all, your nemesis is unlike anyone else you've ever met, agent or otherwise, and not _just_ because he was raised by ocelots.

A purr rises in your chest too, matching his. Those nights at the Academy left their mark on you. Hundreds of animals, raised together with no regard for species, of course you picked up a few things.

His shoulder shifts under you, reaching behind you and towards where you'd left the grooming kit, his intention obvious after so long spent learning exactly how he moves. What sort of agent would you be if you didn't know _that_? "Your fur's all _messy_ ," he mumbles, like it's not _his_ fault the effort you spent brushing it went to waste. "Can't have _that_ , now, _can_ we? So if I..."

Then he drags the brush firmly down your back, before you have a chance to respond, and it's all you can do to cling to him when your back legs start to wobble. Not that you would have objected, as such. You enjoy this too much to ever want him to _stop_.

Sparks shoot up your spine at his touch, lifting your fur in their wake, and you kiss him again. Your nemesis. This wonderful, handsome, _exasperating_ man.

"Is that better?" he murmurs, keeping the brush moving rhythmically through your fur and to the tip of your tail, and you nod. He has a knack for finding the spots most in need of a good scratch, giving them all the loving attention they need. Just like he has with your heart. "From that _noise_ you're making, I'm going to assume that's a _yes_."

Of course. If he wasn't so insistent about his _plans_ , checking the time more often than normal, you'd want to stay here for the rest of the evening, not even bothering with the restaurant.

He sighs. "As cute as you are when you're _purring_ ," he says, like he's any different, "we should really be going."

Letting out a breath of your own, you nudge his hand away and will your legs to hold as you step back, because he's right. He went to all the trouble of setting up reservation for the both of you, the least you could do is let him tell you the inevitable _scheme_ as intended.

* * *

It's not until after dinner that he starts to act on his _scheme_. Reaching across the table for your paw while you both wait for dessert, he takes the deep breath that always precedes his monologues, long since familiar through your nemesisship.

Today is different. You're not sure you've ever seen him so nervous, particularly for a monologue. Doesn't he practice them?

"Perry the Platypus," he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, "I... I had a whole speech prepared, about how you're the best thing to ever happen to me - because you _are_ \- but, I mean, I was running late and then _you_ showed up and..." He looks down, at the way your fingers curl around his, and swallows. "I mean, you already _know_ all that, right? I don't need to explain it? Good, because I just wanted to know..." Pulling a small box from his pocket, he sets it on the table between you- "Will you make me the happiest nemesis in the world?" -and opens it.

A ring.

You know what it means, you've seen enough human movies, but hasn't he already asked? With one of his traps, months ago. You distinctly remember accepting a ringbox from this man. At least this time it comes with a ring, not a trap, and you slide it onto your finger. The answer's still an emphatic _yes_.

Brows furrowed, he leans on his elbows, voice low. "What do you _mean_ , 'already engaged'?"

Exactly that. He's already asked, you've already accepted, you're not sure why he's still freaking out about it. It's not like your answer's _changed_ in that time. You're here, with him, wearing the ring he gave you. What more needs to be said?

"You could have _told_ me," he complains, despite his grin. "All this time, I thought- But _you_ -" He laughs, wiping tears from his eyes. "Curse you, Perry the Platypus."

And here _you_ thought he already _knew_. Rolling your eyes, you set your palm on his jaw and pull your _fiance_ into a kiss. Ridiculous man. Anyone would think _you_ proposed to _him_ , the way he's carrying on. If you'd realised he believed he _hadn't_ , that first time, you _would_ have.

Either way, he's never getting rid of you now.

**Author's Note:**

> Re: the title, Perry is also a fluff, in and of himself. And Heinz is definitely gonna appreciate that floofiness.
> 
> Perryshmirtz server in series description as always!


End file.
